


'Tis the Damn Season

by Good0mens



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon Queer Character of Color, Canon Queer Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Acting Like a Married Couple, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Loves Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Soft Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Trans Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, because they deserve it, just a soft lil thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28126521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Good0mens/pseuds/Good0mens
Summary: He blasted out a warm breath into the cool air, readjusting his beanie as the wind picked up. If Nicky were there, he would chastise him for not wearing gloves, and then he would kiss Joe’s cold hands until they were warm again, despite the fact that his fingertips still had charcoal smudged on them. Joe was smiling just thinking about it, heart picking up a little in anticipation.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 34
Kudos: 231





	'Tis the Damn Season

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is for eurythmix on tumblr, who said trans!Joe rights and should continue saying it - it's just fluff (and a bit of porn, because come on it's me). I wasn't even sure I was capable of this much softness, but here we are. 
> 
> I invite any comments or criticisms of this fic; I am not a trans man, but I did my best to portray an honest interpretation of Joe's character that was respectful and hot. Because Joe is hot across all realities <3

Joe pushed through the door of the café, bracing himself for the chilly wind to blow in his face. He had stood in line just long enough to remember what it was like to be warm from the long line for coffee in the midmorning. It was not yet snowing in London, but frost had started fogging up all the windows, so it was cold enough to start complaining about it. Joe held his coffee between both his hands, letting the hot beverage (that Nile would definitely make fun of him for) seep into his bones.

Whatever. Just because Joe didn’t celebrate or even really _like_ Christmas didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy some of the perks, like the annual revival of peppermint mochas. And as an artist, he could at least appreciate the aestheticism of it all, even if the former retail worker in him cringed reflexively at the holiday music that played everywhere.

He blasted out a warm breath into the cool air, readjusting his beanie as the wind picked up. If Nicky were there, he would chastise him for not wearing gloves, and then he would kiss Joe’s cold hands until they were warm again, despite the fact that his fingertips still had charcoal smudged on them. Joe was smiling just thinking about it, heart picking up a little in anticipation of getting home. 

The city was still holding onto autumn, with the orange and brown leaves, still wet from the rain, plastered along the pavement as Joe walked toward his and Nicky’s little apartment.

He wondered if Nicky would be awake yet, or if he would still be asleep in their bed. Nicky had a habit of waking with the sun, meaning he was ridiculously early in the summer but wouldn’t emerge from the bed until halfway through the day if he didn’t have to in winter. Joe was up at dawn each day for ṣalāt al-faǧr, so Nicky's waking scedule mostly meant that Joe’s orgasms were dependent on the sun, which gave him an odd pavlovian response to it rising.

Joe let himself into the apartment, balancing his stuff in one precarious hand while the other jimmied the temperamental lock. When he got inside, he slid off his beanie, running a quick hand through his wild, curly hair before he shucked off his coat and toed off his damp boots.

Nicky _was_ still in bed, if the empty kitchen and coffee pot were any indicator, which they usually were for the grumpy Italian. He set down the coffee and the brown paper bag, before making his way into their bedroom.

Nicky was laying on his stomach, one leg kicked out, blankets wrapped snuggly around his mostly naked body, save for the boxer briefs that clung to his thighs. He was facing Joe, but his eyes were closed, face soft in sleep. Joe sighed softly and crawled into the narrow space, burrowing under the covers to steal his warmth. 

Nicky made a disgruntled noise when Joe placed his hands on his bare abdomen, but he buried his face into Joe’s neck and inhaled deeply. Joe placed a kiss on his forehead in apology.

“You want breakfast? I went to the café down the road,” Joe said in lieu of greeting.

He’d learned very quickly not to buy Nicky coffee from there, because although the scrunched up face he made at the quality was adorable, it was ultimately a waste of overpriced hot bean water in a cup, because Nicky would just throw it out and make his own.

Pastries, however…Nicky perked up, pulling away enough to blink sleepy seafoam eyes at Joe. He had no right being that cute after just being woken up.

“Did you get me struffoli?”

“You’ll have to get up with me to find out, habibi,” Joe teased.

Nicky closed his eyes again and pulled Joe further into his body, one thigh slotting between Joe’s legs. Joe felt a stab of arousal at the hard line of Nicky’s cock pressed against him.

“You are a very cruel man, Joe,” Nicky sighed forlornly, startling a laugh from Joe.

“I walked out in the rain and the cold to get you sweet, deep fried dough and you can’t even get out of bed?” Joe lamented, tightening his hold on Nicky’s warm waist as he shifted his hips up into Joe’s body.

Nicky smiled triumphantly and replied, “Ah, so you _did_ get me struffoli. And don’t lie to me, tesoro, you went down there to get yourself that disgusting drink.”

“It’s not disgusting, you just don’t think peppermint belongs in anything but toothpaste.”

“It certainly doesn’t belong in shitty coffee,” Nicky retorted, but he tilted his head up to receive a kiss from Joe.

Nicky murmured a quiet _thank you_ against Joe's lips before kissing him again, this time a little deeper, a little more insistent. Too easily, he coaxed Joe onto his back, chapped lips dragging over his bottom lip before brushing against Joe’s beard and along his jaw.

“It’s going to get cold if we don’t get up,” Joe protested half-heartedly, but he dutifully tilted his head to the side to allow Nicky to continue his maddening trail of kisses down his neck.

Nicky nipped his collarbone and looked up at him. “We can reheat the peppermint monstrosity - _maybe_ \- and I can make you struffoli any day,” he reasoned, lifting Joe’s shirt up enough to kiss the skin of his abdomen.

“It was meant to be for you!” Joe exclaimed, kicking the sheets out of the way.

“Like you weren’t going to steal half of them anyway,” Nicky snorted, which was fair, but Nicky didn’t need to call him out this early in the morning about it.

“Slander,” Joe said without any heat, because Nicky was undoing his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers and he was quickly losing his breath with how hot Nicky looked between his legs.

He was already wet from the ecstatic expectation of it, and Nicky quirked a knowing smirk up at him before laving his tongue over his opening. Joe sighed, curling his hands into Nicky’s hair as Nicky sucked and licked into him. Nicky’s hands massaged the meat of his thick thighs, bracketed by Nicky’s broad shoulders.

“Your _mouth_ ,” Joe praised, and Nicky flushed in response, pleased and pretty, across his cheeks.

He was aching with desire, Nicky’s tongue a warm and wet, pulsing pressure against him. He _was_ good at this, had always taken directions from Joe _so well_ , and he could easily reduce Joe to a melting mess in mere seconds with his consistent movements and those intense eyes.

He wondered if they had time for Joe to fuck him before the morning got away from them. The first time he’d done it, Nicky had gone _wild_ , and Joe hadn’t let up until he’d wrung two orgasms from Nicky, and then Nicky had fingered Joe until he’d returned the favour a few times over.

Thinking about Nicky and having Nicky _right there_ , meant it wasn’t long before Joe was close. Everything was so warm, a slow drip of drowsy arousal that came with winter mornings like this. Soon, he was tensing up, thighs shaking as his orgasm rushed through him, Joe’s grip on Nicky’s nape tightening to hold Nicky against his crotch as he came all over his face. Nicky groaned, licking him up until Joe was trembling a little with it, and then brought himself back up Joe's body. 

Nicky kissed him deeply, and Joe moaned at the taste of himself on Nicky’s tongue. He reached down to bring Nicky off, but the damp spot in his underwear made him pull back slightly.

“Nicky, did you come just from eating me out? That’s fucking hot, babe,” Joe murmured against his mouth and Nicky let out a little choked off noise as Joe pressed against the wet patch, hips jerking down into the pressure.

“Hmm, Joe,” Nicky mumbled as he kissed him again, already on his way to dozing off again from his orgasm, “can you-” he cut himself off and rolled them onto their sides, shoving Joe’s jeans down the rest of the way off his legs as best he could with his feet.

“How are your feet _freezing_ ,” Joe hissed, but he let Nicky arrange them into a comfortable position, legs tangled together, Nicky’s nose pressed into his neck again. They fell asleep quicky after that, warm and hazy in their little corner of the world.

-

When he woke up again, Joe was by himself in the bed, covers kicked around his waist haphazardly. He shivered, swinging his socked feet onto the wooden floors and drawing one blanket around himself as he got up.

Nicky was in the kitchen, making breakfast. Bacon and eggs for himself, and what smelled like leftover falafel heating up in the oven. When Joe approached the counter, Nicky placed a fresh, hot cup of coffee in front of him.

Joe lifted it to his lips and smelled the peppermint even before he tasted it, pleasantly surprised. A slow curl of appreciation and fondness swirled in his chest as Nicky looked at him expectantly. 

“Where did you get the peppermint from?” Joe asked, taking another quick sip.

“I stirred in one of those candy canes that Gertrude dropped off when she was trying to convert you,” Nicky explained with a quirk of his lips, and Joe huffed a quiet laugh.

Neither of them particularly enjoyed Christmas, but Nicky had a special hatred for the holidays; more specifically, for the recent resurgence of people taking offence at _Joe_ not celebrating Christmas. He got adorably annoyed, often weaponizing his religious studies doctorate in order to eviscerate the unfounded cries of _‘the war on Christmas.’_

“Our neighbour can go fuck herself,” Joe said cheerfully.

“I think that might be half the problem,” Nicky retorted, turning away to pull the falafel from the oven.

Joe’s mouth watered as the smell wafted over to him. “Have I told you lately, how much I love you?”

Nicky’s eyes softened, leaning over the bench to give Joe a quick kiss – he only scrunched his nose up _a little_ at the minty taste on Joe’s lips – before pulling back to smile at him.

“Tell me again?”

**Author's Note:**

> "So we could call it even  
> You could call me "babe" for the weekend  
> 'Tis the damn season, write this down."  
> \- T.S


End file.
